This time last week, I was in the pit lane at the Valencia Grand Prix and it’s taken some time for my ears to stop ringing and my heartbeat to slow down. For days before the big race, the streets of Valencia hummed with the distant noise of robotic mosquitoes but however noisy that felt, it was nothing compared to being up close.

Via Ferrata in The Dolomites

There’s nothing like the fear of immediate death to concentrate the mind. Last week I retraced the steps of the world’s first via ferrata, a series of iron cables laid down during World War One to help soldiers reach the summits.

Via Ferrata - A 500 Metre Climb

Today, the advantage of this metalwork is to allow non-climbers (like myself) to haul our sorry selves through the clouds.

At last, I think I can genuinely say that this was indeed a breathtaking experience…

I’ll also be speaking to local photographers and mountain guides, researching the Ladino language and investigating the healing powers of arnica, while staying in family-owned luxury hotels in Cortina and Alta Badia.

Please contact me if you have editorial needs in any of these areas – and let’s hope I discover that I do have a head for heights after all…

My feature Brains, Ankles and Other Body Parts, published this month in Desert Leaf, tells the truth behind the gastronomic dream. Read it here…

If not, read on! Many thanks…

Overlooking the olive fields of Andalucia

Inside El Torcal National Park

The outdoor enthusiast in me fell in love with the towering limestone formations in Andalucia’s El Torcal National Park, which I wrote about for this month’s easyJet Traveller. Only so many photos fit into a piece, though, so I wanted to share a few more here.

From a viewpoint within El Torcal

Looking across Andalucia

I’ve spent this last week in Kraków, amid snow and sunshine, sobering historical sites and the best hot chocolate known to man.

This photo (of me) comes from an underground restaurant called The Piano Rouge. Beneath Kraków’s formal, medieval square, this place reminded me of a cross between Aladdin’s cave and the Moulin Rouge, with its scarlet fairy lights, velvety throws and corset-shaped lampshades.

They play jazz but serve up traditional Polish food wrapped in a French title.

I loved it.

The sun sets after a day picking olives...

It all started with the police check last night.

Torchlight zig-zagged across the car and we huddled in the backseat.

“You are English,” said the policeman. “And yet you say you want to go to Pegalajar.”

“That’s right,” said MG, our driver. “My friends here – they want to pick olives.”

“They want,” he lingered over the words, “to pick olives?”

From Liquid Gold & Mud Slides – read the full article at Inside the Travel Lab.

A Weed on the Side of a Footpath

Pilot Whales

Pedro Martina’s sun-worn face lights up as he grabs my shoulder and points into the distance.
“Three of them are under the water now,” he says as I scour the shades of blue. “One baby and two adultos… and further behind them I can see two more.”

It’s certainly not the first time Pedro has hunted whales, but you wouldn’t know it to look at him. Despite a seafaring tradition of more than three generations plus hauling tourists along the waves every day, he still wears that expression of childlike wonder.

Read the full article here.

Finding Dolphins